


As The World Caves In

by GG_Ladybug



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Is Sunshine, Adrien Agreste Needs Help, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Needs a Hug, Akuma Attack, Akuma Battle, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Gen, Hot Mess Adrien Agreste, Hunt Gone Wrong, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It’s an apocalypse, It’s only temporary, Maybe - Freeform, Post-Zombie Apocalypse, Pre-Zombie Apocalypse, Protective Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, So I must traumatise, Suffer First - GG_Ladybug 2k20, Suffering, Survival, Therapy, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse, at times - Freeform, eventually, references, we’ll figure it out, what did you expect?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:02:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GG_Ladybug/pseuds/GG_Ladybug
Summary: An akuma gone terribly wrong leaves the world in ruins and minus one hero. Amidst all this, one blonde haired model is coping as well as he can given the circumstancesOrMiraculous Ladybug, except the one where we traumatise Adrien with a whole ass zombie apocalypse on his shoulders
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794553
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	1. The Day The World Caved In

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I didn't have a home (until i found you)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27616453) by [Blueishfood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueishfood/pseuds/Blueishfood). 



At this point, Adrien could slap their adversaries. Having an akuma that was a zombie wasn’t Hawkmoth’s brightest idea. He’d thought it had been amusing at first. Then the blood started, and it wasn’t so funny anymore. Adrien could probably guess he was one of the first to go like the rest of those in a populated city such as Paris.

When the akuma’s magical infection started spreading, they’d thought this was like Reflekta. A temporary little set back, but an easy one to correct once they located and caught the source of it all. It wasn’t until after they saw the original zombie disappear in a horde for them to realise just how impossible finding him would end up being.

Even with this heavy information, they still didn’t stop in the two man crusade of trying to save civilians and searching for a single tiny purple keychain through all the gore around them. The screams were going to be haunting. You can always tell just how screwed someone was from their screams. The blood curtailing type hurt the most to hear. 

Zombies were just that. Zombies. Human eaters. No matter how magical, that didn’t seem to change in habit. Those that fell victim fatally would just rise like the rest, more mangled then the ones that merely got off an encounter with just a bite. The latter would turn within the hour. Two if they were really lucky.

Adrien didn’t register it much when he spotted his own father amongst it all. He’d been at a fashion event. It made sense he’d be one of the first to be infected. The same for his classmates who’d been hanging out at the Louvre. He assumed he could save them in due time. It was only after he admitted defeat did he let himself intake just what it meant. He’d lost them. The worst part was, had they attacked him, he wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to defend himself out of the shock.

He was sure it had been the third day of frantic looking when it happened, but he could be wrong. There had already been cases in adjacent counties because of people trying to escape when infected, and they were spreading just as fast no matter the containment steps taken. They hadn’t understood it fully at the time, so people with bites were still being let over borders in vulnerable groups.

They’d been travelling on the opposite rows of residential houses, jumping over the ones burning from the resulting anarchy of the virus. It was like the average zombie movie. Adrien was kind of glad he had all the pop culture wired inside of him to prepare. His father always used to say that people only died in zombie films because zombie films don’t exist in their universe, so they wouldn’t know what to expect. Right now, the heroes had the advantage.

Yet, something had clearly gone wrong, because she never met him on the other end of the street. Running back, his only answer to her whereabouts was a blood pool and a small miraculous box left in its wake. He didn’t need to open it to know it housed her spotted earrings. Hand it to Ladybug to use her last moments to secure the one thing that could possibly save all of humanity.

He can’t say the exact day into the global outbreak he admitted she was gone, but he can recall it. He’d tried to convince himself she was fine, or this was some elaborate ruse. He was wrong. He tried to find the key chain. He really had, but with cases growing, and Paris turning into a battle ground after the army was deployed in a futile attempt at control, he admitted it. He admitted they had lost.

Theres a certain point as a hero you have to draw a line and let yourself become a civilian. He’d reached that line. Any further delay would result in catastrophic results in his survival. He couldn’t keep searching for something that simply wasn’t there anymore. He had to do what everyone else in Paris had the last few days to do, and pack his bags.

The news report he’d asked the last few in the TVi station to broadcast had been the one he’d hoped never give. Nobody should have to give that kind of thing, but it was necessary. Cities around the world were in ruins from riots and their growing zombie populations would result them to ghost towns and death traps if they weren’t reduced to that already. 

Adrien had never thought Chat’s final public appearance would be the one that assured the world they were all dammed. Yet here he was, apologising profusely for his failure and wishing them the best in the trails to come. May god have mercy on us all may have been said once or twice as well. For a kid that had never been very religious, he sure as hell was hoping for some kind of celestials now...


	2. Preparing For The World Caving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien is smarter then we give credit for, definitely owns one too many survival products from bad idea 3am shopping and canonically knows how to drive

The Agreste mansion was relatively intact, and Adrien had been half tempted to remain there for the rest of his days. It was his home, but the risks were too high. Not only did the mansion scream _possible supplies_ to raiders, but it would only really work as a defence system until the power went out. Lockdown mode will be enough to keep him protected while he got his arrangement in order. After that, the only logical thing to do would be to split for safer areas. Anywhere other then Paris that is.

Since Father and Nathalie had both been out at the time of the akuma, none of the staff had stuck around long. At the very least, he didn’t have to face anyone’s reanimation. Small mercies considering how painstaking the packing process was going to be. The only thing he had in his favour was Plagg’s presence. He tried to keep the mood up with puns and jokes, but there was only so much you could do in the zombie apocalypse to uphold moral. 

He’d grabbed books from his bookcase about everything he could possible need to know about. History, mechanics, engineering, survival, agriculture. If it was a major field of survival, he grabbed all he could about it. Ironically, he’d even picked up all his issues of The Walking Dead. Both for entertainment and reference. Despite the inaccuracies, it was ironically good at ideas.

Before the power and internet went out, he printed out pages of websites that would help him and charged everything he could, turning them off so they’d be on one hundred percent in the event he needed them. The likelihood of him needing his phone was going to be low, but he wasn’t going to risk it. He had a solar power portable charger anyways. A purchase he no longer regretted.

The next was water. He took advantage of pipe lines while he could, using any free moment he had to collect water. So jugs upon jugs followed close behind the knowledge necessary. Another perk to being rich was the kitchen. Several pantries worth of imperishables were going to be a life saver in the later stages or when he was travelling. Quite literally.

He did everything he could with the stuff that could spoil quickly. The ones he really could do nothing with would just be eaten first. The right cookbook told him how to make meat last months by turning it into jerky and drying the fruit made them last equally as long. He’d been less fond of pickling things, but he would have to learn to like it given the circumstances.

He’d always thought it made sense to search for something else first before using the imperishables. In movies, they instantly ate the soup can they found, but surely it would be better to save that and go hunting instead. He was a smart kid, so making things last wouldn’t be hard.

Medical supplies followed. The sheer amount of kits in each room of the mansion was a godsend. At the end of that process, he gathered the courage to open the Ladybug box and met a very teary eyed Tiki. Plagg had the job of comforting her while he continued packing the Limo with what he could. 

He decided that this would be his vehicle of bitter choice in the end, it had the most possible storage space and could be multipurposed as a place to sleep. Why risk finding a safe bed when he could just make one out of the front seat?

Scavenging jerry cans and petrol was an easy process with his Chat Noir form. He could syphon all the full tanks in the rest of the Agreste cars and then bounce around as his alter ego, grabbing more from abandoned vehicles. It was smarter then going to stations where zombies would surely be. That and they would definitely be fresh out by now given the rush to get out the city and lack of possible trading.

While he was at it, he’d made a curious visit to a comer store. Most the shelves were already empty. Panic buying and looting no doubt the suspects. He’d been relatively surprised that no one had taken any batteries and grabbed them all himself. Did people misunderstand just how useful they could be? They could power all sorts of things post the power plants shutting down. Do people forget flashlights exist and how important they’ll be in avoiding an ambush?

He’d used all the hours of service he could to make desperate calls to people he knew as though somehow they’d pick up even if he’d witnessed their deaths or zombified forms in the early hours of the spread. Not a single one conformed to his dream. Now their phones, wherever they may be, just had owned a few shaky voiced messages. At least he had their old ones to reassure himself with. Just hearing their voices would have to be enough. He couldn’t morn yet. He had work to do. 

He remembered when his parents had eyed him strangely when he had the tape phase a few years ago. Given his age, asking for cars with tape decks and converting modern and old music alike to tapes and cassettes wasn’t exactly common. Now he was laughing in the face of his missing mother since he’d be able to listen to music even without stations operating.

He didn’t plan to be outside for long. He would remain in the car as much as possible until going outside was completely necessary. There was no point putting himself in needless danger unless he couldn’t help it. However, if this was going to be his residence, he was going to be sure to personalise it.

He was probably just distracting himself from the cold truth that everyone he ever cared for was dead, but he needed it. No attachments. Not yet. He started with collecting all his photos before working towards small gifts they’d given him. Blue Tack was a key part of his interior design. Photos and his father’s sketched designs were scattered around the dashboard, but there was only one with the honour of being sellotaped to the far left corner of the windshield.

It was one of the photos they’d taken as a family before his mother disappeared. Even Nathalie was in it and she usually despised being photographed with a passion. Everything was just picture perfect. It was something he could look forward too. He could keep some sort of internal semblance of peace if he pretended he could always go back to that moment. He couldn’t, but it was a nice thought for a while.

Hanging from the rear view mirror was the lucky charm Marinette had made for him. He didn’t want to risk wearing it and getting it damaged or lost. He even drew little doodles in places of the car with marker pens. The fabric roof was entirely black aside from white stars drawn to mimic constellations. He didn’t know if this was just out of desperation because he’d seen the gory mess Paris had turned into, but it looked great. It looked roomy. It looked like a good home.

In the back of the limo, he added a few boxes of festive decorations. Even if he was in an apocalypse, he needed to keep his humanity no matter what happened. Even if that was by wearing a Christmas hat once every year.

The last things he packed were a few suitcases worth of clothes. The backups wouldn’t be a bad thing to hold onto. There’s only so long you can go with the same clothes before needing to change out of them. When he had all he needed, he couldn’t put it off anymore.

He spent his sweet time going down the twists and turns of his house, memorising every feature. Just before he made his departure, he grabbed his father’s aftershave and Nathalie’s perfume from their desks to keep with him. He wasn’t quite sure why. There was something comforting about it. It made him feel as though they were still with him.

His only regret, as he put his ability to drive at such a young age to good use, was not ending all of their suffering before he made ground from Paris. The very city and people he’d swore and failed to protect were going to be cursed to an eternity of roaming until someone else put a stop to their grisly fate in a less then merciful way.

It was more of a way to keep him sane, but he documented his travels with his Instagram account. None of the posts ever sucsefully uploaded, but a mini video dairy was easier to maintain then an actual one. Plagg had teased him for it at the start, but Tiki was quick to scold him for doing so. He also regularly texted and called his family and friends for the same reason. Whenever playing over voicemails weren’t enough, he could listen to their own recorded message and leave whatever today’s event was. If a few of them happened to be sobbed apologies, what did it matter?


	3. As The World Begins To Cave In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien is really trying to adapt, makes stupid decisions in where to go and worships his candles... yeah, it still doesn’t sound right when put like that-

The kwamis were his only surviving friends now. His only travel partners. He couldn’t risk partnering up. Not at his current age. The probability of being used or robbed was too much. Any man could easily overpower him if they so wanted to, and his sense of heroic duty meant he’d never willingly reveal himself as Chat Noir to protect himself either.

He had to live by rules. If this was going to work at all, he was going to have to draw up a game plan. Once he’d driven far enough from the main city, he pulled over and began rootingthrough all the pages of printed information. Uncapping his pen, he began writing.

To stand a chance, he needed safety. He could just haul up in a distant field somewhere around south France.Maybe he could also head to a wartime bunker that was relatively still out together. If he could get to the states by taking one of the last boats or flights, then he had Hinsdale County on his list. He’d even considered the Catacombs at first before realising he’d just get lost like an idiot in the expanse of unmarked territory.

In the end, he settled for the states. The only weapons he currently owned was a bat and a kitchen knife. In America, it would be child’s play to find something to defend himself in abundance while still speak the language. While he knew the odd bit of Russian from lessons, he still wasn’t fluent. It was better safe then sorry.

He’d thought about simply buying a plane ticket, but it had become quickly clear most flights were either cancelled or not flown at all by fearful pilots quitting their jobs to be at home for the end of the world. A ferry ended up being the easiest to acquire. Adrien wasn’t exactly sure if it was an entirely legal operation, but he wasn’t going to question it further since it got the job done.

His rule list was worked on the entire trip, but when it was finished, he knew that this was going to be what he lead his life by until the foreseeable future. A lot of it was references to other films and games he’d watched on the subject matter, but they were surprisingly helpful. The last rule was the most important to him, however.

1) Wear Seat Belts

2) Cardio

3) The Double Tap

4) Don’t be afraid

5) No Hand To Hand

6) No Attachments

7) Travel Light, Home Heavy

8) Swing High, Aim High

9) Shake Danger Off

10) Don’t be a hero

11) Stealth Is A Friend

12) No Alcohol

13) Anything Is A Weapon

14) Ziplock The Bullets To Avoid Duds

15) Limber Up

16) Blend In

17) When In Doubt, Know A Way Out

18) Shoot First

19) Stay On The Road

20) Triple-Knot Shoe Laces

21) Keep That Hair Short

22) Check The Back Seat

23) Enjoy the little things

24) If Bit, Cut It Off

25) Always Save The Last Bullet For Yourself

He had Plagg and Tiki for updates. Since they could sense akuma magic, they could know just how overrun the world had become every second of the day should they just focus hard enough. Clearly, he’d overestimated just how long the human race would last, though perhaps the fact it was magic gave everyone some leeway. They told him they were already down to the last 10 percent in only a month.

Travelling turned out to be a lot harder then he first anticipated. When he was younger, he used to be annoyed about how long it took to get from point a to point b in apocalypse movies. It’s far different to family road trips to say the least. Avoiding cities, main roads and herds made driving a nightmare. Especially when conserving fuel. Every so often, even with his stockpile in the back, he headed out to syphon more whenever he could.

It had been in doing this that he got his first zombie kill. One panic attack, existential crisis, pep talk and desensitisation later, Plagg had convinced him to take the man’s clothes since he wouldn’t miss it where he’s gone to. Even Tiki had encouraged it despite her obvious sickness at blood. He looked good in leather anyways; it was harder to bite through. It wasn’t as though he was taking everything. Just combat boots, gloves and a jacket.

He’s seen a few settlements on his way in search for a middle ground, but never interacted with them. He didn’t want to fall into a less then savoury one. He’d read The Walking Dead enough to know that not all of them were going to be your saviours. In his scavenging, he had run into the odd person. Each interaction was brief, but still meaningful.

Even halfway across the world from home, his fame was showing up as they recognised him. He supposed many travellers would’ve seen his face on a billboard by now. They’d seemed surprised a mansion boy such as himself could last so long in the wild on his own when some of their toughest had died in early days. His time as Chat gave him a boost to that factor, but he didn’t need to tell them that.

Some people offered to merge groups since he was just a kid, but he’d politely decided each time. They were usually heading in different directions, and was the possibility of being used for your resources worth it? With each interaction, it seemed his age helped him in some way since he walked out with more then he came in with.

Some gave him food, a woman gave him a solar watch with the date as well as time, one man passed him over an old revolver after a firm promise to use it responsibly, and his all time favourite had been from the woman he’d bumped into that had been adept with swords. The collection of birthday candles, no matter how seemingly useless, were some of his most treasured objects.

Every time it was someone‘s birthday in which he knew, he’d light one and sing to them. He put those videos on his little internet diary, wishing their icons could pop up in his notifications saying they had liked it. Just as they used to. The day he had to sing Father happy birthday, he’d broke down crying halfway through. What of it? He was a grieving child still, first and foremost from a hero.


	4. Hospitals In A Caved In World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien is on a supply run and Plagg has a hero complex this whole zombie apocalypse is hurting

In the beginning he'd called them what they were. Akumas. Then he progressed into victims. Not all of them were akumatised, they were just effected by the magic of one. Yet calling them that didn't sound right, not when he'd witnessed them literally eat his friends and family alive. Victims don't do that.

So he followed pop culture and started calling them zombies unironically. It had been more of a joke at first, but now it was reality. The monsters, for all intents and purposes, were undead corpses that were magically reanimated to roam the world in search for human flesh. Sounds familiar, right? It's basically impossible to talk about them without the Z-word cropping up.

If he ran into people he'd call them that universal name, but to himself and the kwamis, he started drawing up nicknames. Calling them that in a non-threatening scenario sounded... just wrong. It was as though he was giving them power by such a commonly feared term. The very thing the akuma had wanted. There was something comforting about separating himself from all the danger when in the safety of the car too.

That was enough exposition, however. He could dwell on life for as long as he lived, but that didn't deter the fact the only lasting parts of it were animals and rag tag survivors such as himself. Nostalgia was a dangerous drug that would only lead to his death. Just like as Chat Noir in the past, the only way to survive akumas were to see it as it was. Dangerous, but still worthy to joke about.

No matter how much he kept his optimistic mood going, in his opinion, the absence of civilisation ending up being the most emotionally daunting in hospitals. The TV's that once played the same news channels were now a pure black. Their generators probablyhadn't lasted very long by the looks of it, so they'd created makeshift protections with ropes, wood and gurney frames instead of the usual mechanical locks. It hadn't been enough to save them from an outbreak. People freshly bit would've still flocked here for treatment, turning one by one and infecting others.

Things were scattered across the floor as though people had stopped mid job. Hospitals had always been a place that were blaring and busy with action. There would always be a doctor walking down a hallway, a patient arguing with the receptionist, a person visiting and many more waiting for treatment. Seeing it so frozen was daunting, especially since any sound he heard could only be a possible threat.

A small part of Adrien kind of liked it. The silence was a rare occurrence in the past. Given his status, he was always doing something, whether that be school work or model related. The limitless opportunity for adventure was appealing. He had never been allowed to do such things before in an unfamiliar area. Both his Father and Mother alike had been very strict when it came to safety. Being rich had its cons after all because the looming threat of being held for ransom was pretty common.

He might of loved the acquired freedom fully if it didn't mean that most of the human race was dead and still walking the streets trying to take out the rest as the expense. Even when he was interrupted every so often by the need to take a stray walker out that hadn't left to join a herds outside, the small things had to be embraced.

The only reason he was even there was to find medications that weren't over the counter. The medical bags he’d grabbed from the mansion had lots of things, but not certain antibiotics and painkillers. He had plenty of time to snoop in places he had always wanted to go and mess with abandoned equipment while he was at it.

He'd been stoked upon stumbling on the wide array of sweets sitting inside one of the abandoned nurses stations. The very best thing about sugar products was the long shelf life. Once upon a time, he couldn't of cared less about confectionaries such as that. He could have it any time he wanted, but he ended up choosing not to so he could maintain a healthy diet. These days, he couldn't wait to sacrifice his blood sugar levels. Having little snacks in a travel bag reminded him of better days when they’d go on family camping trips before his mother’s disappearance.

With a lollipop in his mouth, he hummed a tune aloud absentmindedly, banging on doors every so often before entering the room to find out if anyone was in there. Alive and dead alike. He'd rather avoid getting jump scared today, thank you very much. It had happened enough by now to realise how to lower the chances of it.

Even when he was sure it was going to be safe, he still travelled at a slight crouch to lessen the noise from the footsteps and had his weapon drawn at all times. The only moment he walked at a normal pace and fashion these days were after securing the entire building. Even then, his guard was always up should anything hit the fan unexpectedly.

Just like right now that is. He’d just finished up in the pharmacy and was doing one last sweep to be sure he hadn’t missed anything. He couldn't exactly explain how he always knew something was amiss. It was something like in a horror movie. There was silence, and then there was the suspicious quiet. He didn't quite know for absolute sure until he smelt death in the air.

No word of a lie. He smelt death. Anyone still alive in the apocalypse had gotten used to it by now. It was an aroma you couldn't escape in cities such as this. He hadn't wanted to come for that very reason, but realising paracetamol can only do so much against pain or infections had forced him to drive inland to get to a nearby hospital for a supply run.

In a city full of corpses, every fabric and little molecule carried that scent of decay. The alarming sweet stench mixed with rotten meat was easy to become nose blind to. Whenever a walker group was near, the sheer concentration meant you would be hit with it all over again. That was always the first sign something was coming your way.

He froze and shuffled closer to the corner of the hallway. He didn't peak his head out like first tempted. Even that could be enough. Instead, he grabbed the makeup mirror from his pocket and angled it over the threshold of the wall.

A large collection of walkers were all stood together, being held back by a singular chain. If something provoked them, they'd surely just throw themselves over it. It could only stop them as far as wandering went. Hunting? They might as well just be without it at all. He pulled his hand back in alarm before they could see it.

Slowly, he began to inch away, intending to make his way back from once he came. Even if that part of the hospital could be the most stocked because of the zombie deterrent, he already had more then enough to call this a more then successful run. Except life could never be easy for him, no.

A zombified nurse had managed to get out from wherever they had been previously and were not that far behind him. If Adrien was to guess, he'd say the staff room. After only giving one firm knock on the door, the loud groans and gurgled hisses had sent him in the other directions in a bid to avoid them. His decision not to go in anyway and kill them had clearly come back to bite him.

Zombies all acted the same upon spotting their prey. The freeze, the head tilt, the screech alerting others and the violent approach. So as the nurse stared him dead in the eyes, there was no denying that he had finally been spotted despite being so close all this time.

The real question was just that. How had they only just spotted him? Wouldn't his smell have alerted them like it had previously in confined spaces? The zombie began walking towards him, but not in the usual way they did whenever they saw him. There was no screech or opening of the mouth. She was acting as though nothing was amiss.

Frowning, he looked slowly down at himself before it clicked in his mind. He was covered in fresh zombie blood from earlier. That had to be it. He hadn't been running, so it wasn't like it was clear he'd been human. Was it really as simple as that to avoid them in crowds? In herds even? Cover yourself and walk slow? It seemed almost too easy.

One of the ways he'd lasted so long was avoiding the zombies as much as possible, but that didn't mean he hadn't needed to fight them in the past. Could another option be to blend in with them too? His stealth, speed and size often worked to his advantage. He could always get away from confrontational situations, but with this information, he'd be able to do even more.

Just to be safe, he swung the knife to the back of the nurses head, taking her out before lowering the body to the ground himself. He didn't want a loud thump to be the thing that got him killed. "You thinking what I'm thinking kid?" Plagg whispered as lowly as possible.

"Yeah. I think I am." He concurred. Tiki's face contorted in pain, as though she had also been going through the thought process and wished no one actually would go through with it for sake of mind. "It's not that bad of an idea in theory. But in practice..." She agreed begrudgingly before shivering in disgust.

"You had to risk life and limb just to get out the parking lot, but with that?" The black cat suggested. "I'm going to have to clean all the leather and waste water with that much on me. The few splatters isn't that bad for me, but it won't fool a whole up close and personal group." He protested, making sure to keep his voice as quiet as possible.

"Who says your do it in this form, kid?" Plagg countered proudly. Right. With the miraculous he can get as dirty as he wants and it will all disappear as the transformation does. It will never return. Smiling, he petted Plagg fondly. "You have the best of arguments, buddy." He complimented.

"Please don't do it with mine." Tiki squeaked. Adrien had to stifle a laugh at her antics. No matter how long he was out here, he didn't think she'd ever change. Something about her being creation meant she was so innocent until she was angry. You don't want to cross an angry Tiki. That had been tip one Plagg taught him. "Wouldn't of dream of it. Misterbug can stick to hunting and escaping." He assured.

The red and black kwami practically deflated in relief. "Oh thank the deities." She sighed gratefully. "Come on kid! I've been wanting to try this since that panel in The Walking Dead! Now I have an excuse since it really works!" Plagg chimed quietly. Adrien smiled in amusement. "The fact you've been thinking about doing this should concern me, but ultimately isn't that surprising." He added.

Muttering a quick sorry to whoever the person that thing once was, he thrust downwards with his knife, connecting sharply with torso of the monster. He stepped forward dragged the end of his wakizashi as far lateral as he could, pressing down with his teeth grit. He placed his boot on the shoulder as he pulled his weapon free, before turning around to face Tiki that had already gone a shade of red green.

Adrien couldn't blame her. This was another kill he didn't regret in the moment, but will no doubt go through a rollercoaster of emotions when in safety. "You might wanna..." He offered, pointing in a different direction. The kwami was quick to oblige in turning away.

Whispering the transformation words, he wasted no time in starting to cover himself. Even being used to the smell and sights this new world brought, he still couldn't help but gag as he did what he needed to do. When he was finished, he stood up and rolled his shoulders that were temporarily free of the backpack of supplies.

He could see the group rounding the corner, clearly having been attracted by the noise cutting open one of their own had caused. Their frighteningly empty faces were looking directly at him. Making sure to stay as still as possible, he mirrored their actions and mannerisms.

It took a minute, but one by one, they filtered off back. Turning on his heel, he dragged his feet along with him. If they happened to turn back for any reason, he didn't want them to see him running away and spot through his ruse. Tiki followed close behind, her 'nose' plugged with a hand.

When he was past the safety of the infested ward, he began sprinting the rest of the way to the exit. He'd secured the rest earlier. Now he was jumping on his toes, readying the courage to do what he just did on a larger scale. "How's outside looking, Tiki?" He questioned. She phased out for a moment before returning straight after.

"There's a herd of them moving across the street. I don’t I think they’ll be an issue as long as you don’t attract them. There's about five dozen scattered across the car park right now." She answered, clearly trying to hide the panic she was feeling. Nodding, he cracked his neck and opened the door with a careless bang, throwing his body against it to do so.

Stumbling out as though he held little control over his motor functions, he limped as convincingly as he could, keeping his eyes downcast. Thankfully, he reached the limo without dying. A mere miracle within itself. A few of them got far too close for his liking and inspected him longer then he would've wanted. It was single handedly the most terrifying thing he'd done so far. The threat of more being on his tail if he screwed up and needed to kill meant he could've been trapped in a cycle of it getting worse no matter what.

The flash of green light as he turned back caught the attention of some biters, but he had already thrown himself inside the vehicle and was driving away before they could even think to go check the disturbance. Letting out a breath, he hit his hand a few times on the steering wheel in victory, taking the nearest exit out the city.

Plagg zipped to the back and returned nibbling on a piece of jerky. Now Adrien thought about it, he had never even told the two to ration, but whenever he transformed, they always took the bare minimum to recharge. They could both do so with anything and often just grabbed whatever was nearest and closer to running out of date despite their preferences.

The fact Plagg had stopped asking for cheese altogether was alarming within itself. “I still have that box of Camembert, buddy. It’s not like it’s any good for me now because of the bacteria.” He informed offhandedly, weaving through the abandoned military vehicles blocking the road. “I know, doesn’t matter what I recharge with. This cat can run on everything like the rest!” Plagg shrugged proudly.

Eyebrow raised, he flicked his eyes to the destruction’s counterpart. She looked equally perturbed at the sentence. “Plagg... this is like the 1800’s is it?” Tiki questioned softly. They received no answer from Plagg, who simply phased to the back of the limo. “19th century? What about it?” Adrien blinked.

Tiki wilted sadly, perching herself up on the dashboard. “It‘s an awful story. He never talks about his holders, but Jevonte? He won’t even reference him like he does the rest. It hurts too much. When they killed his holder at the time just for... he let loose. There was epidemics and pandemics all around the 1800’s after. I could’ve reversed them if I wanted to... but to be honest, I wasn’t overly fond of saving them either. He didn’t eat cheese for decades. It took Master Fu to persuade him out his mourning. Mainly with news of the strides the world was taking to prevent what happened to Jevonte from happening again. I think he just couldn’t bring himself to eat something he enjoyed so much when Jevonte had suffered so.” She explained with a sigh.

“What happened to Jevonte that made him so... off put?” Adrien probed cautiously. Tiki hesitated for a moment before answering. “You took 1800’s history, yes? What was one of the biggest social problems back then?” She pushed. He thought for a solid moment before understanding passed over his features upon running over everything she just said.

Grip tightening on the wheel, the leather gloves he was wearing visibly constricted from the way he tensed. “He had to watch his kitten be lynched.” It wasn’t a question. It was a certainty. Tiki nodded gravely. “Jevonte did everything for his town. They already treated him like dirt, but when they found out Ladybug were actually lovers... with it being interracial...” She slowed to a halt.

“So if he’s acting like how he did then, he’s blaming himself.” Adrien cleared up. “Either for my bug or for the world.” Tiki hummed. Adrien didn’t know quite how to continue that. He wanted nothing more then to grab Plagg from the back and assure him the outbreak was most certainly not his fault, but it wouldn’t do any good.

If he was going through something, all they could do was let Plagg go through it and give support here and there when necessary like they were doing for him. At some point, Tiki also disappeared through the glass parting, presumably to converse to Plagg in a more casual less depressing fashion.

Now he was alone at the front, he let his eyes linger on the photos of people he knew a second longer then necessary. He had to fight hard to not see them as their zombified counterparts. "Even after all this time, I still hate hospitals." He murmured to himself offhandedly as though he was speaking to them, glaring harshly at the passing signs. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t have to go back for a while. 

Releasing a breath, he turned up his music to take his mind off things before it could wander any further...


	5. Photographs Of A Caved In World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which time is fluid, apocalypses suck in terms of optician care and Adrien reminds himself why there’s a rule about no attachments in a form of a little girl
> 
> Or
> 
> Adrien with glasses and more trauma for spice

Over time, photos aged and the world's still living population dwindled with them. He stopped keeping track of how long it had been since the start of this whole mess. In the beginning, he kept rough estimates by only really checking the date to know when he had to sing happy birthday to a passed associate. His mind made the odd connections itself.

At a certain point, he just threw in the towel and stopped subconsciously trying to work it out. Dates were dates. How long it had been since he'd failed everyone didn't matter. Keeping time like a tally wouldn't help anyone do anything. All he knew was that he'd blown out his own birthday candle by now and looked to be approaching adulthood at absolute worst age wise.

He still looked relatively the same physically. His clothing had to be changed when he had his growth spurt. He really did take after his father in the height department. When he'd been raiding the old clothes store for new gear, finding jeans with the right lengths ended up being a complete nightmare. He would've killed for the Agreste tailor to still be around. He could at least keep the leather jacket since it fit well. Before, it had been some what baggy. Now it was just the right size for him.

Still, he managed to enjoy the clothes shopping... okay it’s actually called raiding but he didn’t want to call it that since it wasn’t like there was an economic system at the moment. Non essential shops had been the first to shut down in store when the akuma's infection went global and the last you’d ever see someone robbing unless it was high end, so he had all the choices in the world to go for.

The less fun part of it all was the glasses. Oh bloody hell the glasses. Don’t get him started on that gene pool. Even though he had his mother's eyes and attributes, when it came to their vision, he drew his another of his father's short straws. The deterioration was gradual, and he only really noticed at first when he had trouble reading a road sign very far off in the distance like he hadn't experienced before. 

Eventually, he admitted it was going to be a problem when he missed a vital arrow shot when hunting as Misterbug. Even with it being a lucky charm, it couldn't compensate for his mistake. Finding glasses took longer then the jeans. Even Tiki had started to lose her collective brain cells after a while. Testing eyesight turned out to not be as easy as opticians made it look when he was younger.

Without usable technology to speed the process along, Plagg and Tiki settled for holding flash cards up across the room while he tried on every pair in the back he could find. Any lenses that worked even slightly were popped out the frames and put in his backpack. The less effective ones could be his back ups if he broke the others past the odd crack. 

The closest lenses to what he needed ended up being in one of the old receptionist’s draws. The person that ordered them was probably going to pick them up the same day everything went to hell. He made a point not to look at the name as he binned the packaging for it. If he did, then he’d know who he was stealing from. Whose life these glasses should of been apart of.

If that wasn't hard enough within itself, then the model in him made a latent appearance. It was difficult to find a frame that worked for him. Unless he couldn't tape and glue it, he was going to make these things last so they might as well be complimentary. When his phone had charge from the solar battery, he took a picture to commemorate the finial decision.

He preferred digital. The physical pictures pinned up in the limo were, despite being in otherwise good condition ignoring the odd smudges of dirt here and there, had become slightly lighter from the sun exposure. His digital copies could never do that. It was why he took photos of them all early on just in case he ever lost one. But having them there... it just felt different from staring at them on his cell.

They were currently what Abigail was staring at in wonder from the passenger seat. "Who are all these people, Mr Agreste?" She questioned curiously. "They're... they're people I used to know. From before all this happened. That one you're pointing at? Those were my parents." He smiled. "They look just like you." The girl soon marvelled. "I get that a lot, kid."

He should've just kept driving. He had the rule Don't Be A Hero for a reason. It had kept him alive and out of trouble, but she was just a child. A child sticking her thumb out shyly for a ride. Who was he to say no to that? Anyone could've picked her up. Predators, killers, zombies and he'd even heard stories of there being cannibals from the few he'd run into when exploring. Imagine that. In a world where the undead eat you, now you've got to fear the same from the living too.

She'd probably fallen behind on a supply run and couldn't find her parents, instead choosing to cut her loses and ask for assistance. Red Cloud Ranch wasn't that far by car anyways. She was talkative, but not in an annoying way, more jovial then anything. It kind of reminded him of Marinette. She held an innocence not many could hold onto for long these days.

She jolted in surprise at one nearest to her. "Is that Ladybug and Cat Black!?!" She squealed in excitement. Somehow, his heroic counterpart sounded better in or with French then it did full English. Mish mash certain words and it still worked, but all together? They didn't hit like he was aiming for. Cat Noir, Chat Noir and Chat Black? All fine contenders, but Cat Black? Seriously?

"Yeah. I'm from Paris." He nodded, glancing towards the map and taking a left. "Really? Is what they say true?" She gasped, wonder twinkling one he'd eyes. "Depends. What are they saying?" He served, mirroring her curiosity. She took the bait. "That he's still looking. For the akuma that caused all this. So he can revert it. That he's gonna save us all and we can go back to before." Abigail grinned.

Is that what he'd been turned into now? A tale of hope that was being passed around the world by the few left behind to sit in it? An urban legend? Like the stories of those colonies and settlements up north that almost always ended up being false or outdated? He'd lost count of how many people he'd seen searching for those.

Shifting uncomfortably, he quickly realised he couldn't say no to her. The truth would crush her. She'd been so joyful to hear where he was from and see a picture of the heroes. "Yeah. He is." Adrien hummed with an overly confident smile compared to what he was feeling. The twelve year old gave a little jump dance in her happiness. “I can’t wait for more TV. It’ll suck being a super young again but at least I’ll have things mommy and daddy say aren’t around anymore!”

He'd hoped they'd return to a nice comfortable silence, but she instead kept asking questions about the superheroes. He was much like his mother's in that he was physically incapable of saying no to children. Adults, much like Gabriel, he could shut down as easily as he breathed, but kids? Their damn poppy dog eyes got him every time, so he answered everyone with as much honesty as he could muster.

"Hey! You're the one on the billboards!" Abigail realised, pointing to one they were passing happily. Adrien tensed slightly before shrugging it off with a small smile. She was going to figure it out anyway. "My pops calls you perfume boy." She giggled. Damn. Every time. It was either that or model kid.

Adrien blushed and scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah that's me. Radiant. Care free. Dreamy. Adrien: The Fragrance." He recited off by heart. "I heard that advert before the radio went out! The words were a bit different though." She hummed. Huh. Probably lost in translation. Though he knew for a fact that was the approximate version. Maybe they changed it to sound better. 

"When Cat fixes everything, I'll be able to see it again. Mommy says that we'll all go back to our old ages and maybe forget everything. Those things are super scary and they hurt really bad so we won’t complain about that." She daydreamed, pulling her sleeve up to show the injury he hadn't known about before.

The smile he had the entire interaction fell when his eyes flicked from the road to the bite mark on her arm. Swallowing harshly, his grip on the wheel tightened while he plastered on a fake version of what he had before. He couldn't fight the glassy look his eyes had taken however. Why the kid? Of all the people to be bitten, why the kid?

Sure he'd come across all sorts, child zombies one of them. Hell, he'd even seen what was left of a half consumed baby crawling around once, but that didn't make seeing one freshly bit hurt any less. "Yeah. They do hurt quite a bit. Hey! I know. Why don't you try and get some sleep? It's a long ride. I'll wake you up as soon as we get there. Deal?" He lied, trying to maintain the cheer in his voice.

She agreed almost instantly, joking about how she was already tired anyways. Stage one. Fatigue. Then it transitioned into fever and sickness. "Hey, Agreste?" She murmured sleepily. "Yeah, kid?" He questioned. Really, he shouldn't of let Plagg rub off on him so much with the nicknames. "You promise Cat Black is going to find the akuma? Adults lie a lot... so do you swear you're not?" She asked sheepishly.

Oh god. Oh god. He couldn't say no to her, but he can't in good conscience promise that to a dying girl. He can't. He just can't. Opening his mouth for a moment, he let it shut as he weighed his options while she got comfortable for sleep. "Yeah. I promise. With all my heart. Chat's going to save us."

The moment she closed her eyes with a satisfied smile and rested her head on the window, he let the flash of pain show on his face. Something told him, based on her sentence, she knew damn well that this wasn't going to go well for her. Maybe she's had a family member bit in the past and she's still believing they simply fell asleep forever.

Plagg and Tiki are mercifully silent when he pulls over a few minutes later, picked the girl up carefully where she sat as to not wake her up, laid her on the ground and levelled a gun on her head. "M-Maybe I should just leave her here." He stuttered after a moment of just staring down the barrel.

"She's going to turn any minute now. We all know that. Is it really merciful to let her roam the rest of her days eating humans? Her family even?" Tiki suggested. Adrien's grimaced and strengthened his posture a few times, going lax with every moment of hesitation that entered his mind. "Will it hurt her? When it happens? She won't suffer, right?" The words were even meeker now.

"I didn't listen much in your biology classes, but pain travels at what? 400 feet per second? Bullets go faster. She won't feel a thing." Plagg assured. Adrien isn't sure he wants to deal with the repercussions if he messes the shot up and it's not fatal. He'd seen enough of this world to become somewhat cynical, still, nothing had prepared him for this.

Reaching for his confidence, he took a deep breath in to steady himself and clenched his eyes shut as his finger tightened on the trigger. He muttered a curse, opening his eyes to see the street now painted red. The body of the girl he'd shot directly through the forehead was still lying there peacefully as though she was merely sleeping.

A pang went through his chest at the waste of it all. She could of been all sorts. Maybe she was going to be a doctor before all this. He didn't know. She had so much ahead of her, but he blew it aside. He didn't have the luxury to be sentimental. He hadn't technically killed her anyways. You could argue that was impossible. Not when she was bit and already in the first stage. She was dead anyways. He just ensured it was biologically guaranteed. An actual mercy these days.

Grimacing, he stumbled away and lost what lunch he’d had earlier in the day. He’d gotten used to killing zombies. It was easy on his conscience. It didn’t make his world spin with measure and stomach do flips in sickness. Adrien took a moment to kneel down and wipe away the blood trailing down her face when he was finished the horror stage and moved on to the guilt part. The most remorse he'd felt since his first zombie kill if he was to place it in anyway.

"Sleep well, Abigail." He murmured. After standing, he dusted the dirt off his leather and entered the car. He sighed heavily and pushed up his glasses. "Why the hell did I promise her?" Adrien’s growled, slamming the door shut and driving away from where he’d left the corpse. “You wouldn’t of said anything else, kitten. It’s not so bad.” Plagg assured, sitting up in the rear view mirror.

“It’s still a lie, Plagg, even with good intentions. I gave up long ago. How could I say that to her? To a dying girl none the less? The one who I just promised would wake up again!” He ranted, glaring at one of the photographs of his hero form. “How many?” The question hung through air, and the meaning was obvious no matter the sudden context change.

“One hundred and twenty four, including you.”

“Per capita?”

“You know that’s not what he meant.”

“I know Tiki... I know.”


	6. As The Herds Cave North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien is learning the ropes and the universe hands him a middle finger

He masked stealing as taking free range. It was far simpler to think of it as such. He’d ignited a building on fire once too just to remind him of home. To paint the sky orange like it had in Paris all that time ago in anarchy fuelled carnage. He didn’t check the building for signs of recent inhabitants. He just went in, looted the ammunition and poured what was left of a near empty Jerry Can around the wooden porch to set it alight.

It was exactly desolate or in ruins. For all he knew, the owners could be some of the few left alive these days. They could just be out hunting. He decided to ignore such a possibility. Rather choosing to enjoy the sight. There were other buildings. He was sure they’d live just fine if they were. It wasn’t his problem.

He was turning against people. Against his fellow human kind. He wanted solitude. He wanted to be a lone wolf. It was safer. A selfish action he'd never make in normal circumstances, yes, but safe. He needed to. He needed to focus on surviving this madness. Not on mere manners. It would get to him emotionally later, yeah, but that wasn’t relevant right now.

He usually parked up in the middle of fields to sleep. Roads were too busy in zombie population and there was the low possibility of survivors going down there while he slept. The risk of being caught off guard was too high to take. That is if there even was someone left in the US. For al he knew, the hundred or so were in a presidential bunker or something.

He often debated that with Tiki and Plagg. Whether or not that president here was alive or not. France’s had stuck out for his country to his last breath. Adrien had watched that final transmission before leaving the mansion actually. He’d worn the bite on his neck with pride as he bid his people adieu.

Adrien was firmly on the side that the second the outbreak made news, he was moved there. Plagg thought the guy had probably died in DC transport, but his replacement was with the others in a bunker. Tiki had scolded them for believing that the government would prioritise someone’s life over others. That if DC had fell, so had the president and the senate with them.

Their conversations varied in severity. Sometimes it would be nonsensical, or lighthearted banter. Other times it would be survival tactics, plans for the day. Once in a while, they were bound to have a heavy topic. Like talking about those they had lost or the chances of this being fixed.

He drove aimlessly. He had no real destination other then away from cities and in state. He’d like to think they were going home. That they were searching for a new place to call their own, but there simply wasn’t any he could do that to. Nowhere but Paris could ever be truly called home, and that was destroyed.

Home implies he owns it. Even if he raided a building here in Colorado and stayed there for the rest of this ordeal, it would never be his. The pictures on the walls of other people long since dead and marks of old life gone would prove that.

Every so often, if he wasn’t hunting, exploring, driving or idling in the car, he let himself stop on the side of the road and process everything that had happened. The walls of the limo were safe, but sometimes they were suffocating. He just needed air once in a while. Fresh air. The country side gave him that. No putrid smell of death. Just clean air and fresh honeydew.

He couldn’t count all the times he’d been terrified now. He’d like to think he was some unbreakable soldier of destruction. That nothing could get to him, but that was more of a lie then him claiming not to be Chat Noir. The beating of his heart racing painfully in his chest was an all too well known friend.

It was natural now for his hand to constantly be on his knife whenever in unknown territory. He wondered if this is what people felt like when they went to war. Like any sign of movement could possibly end up being your death warrant in the making.

He always woke at the same time every day unless he could help it. The first rays of sunlight was his new silent alarm clock. It was essential that he be awake the moment sun rose. That was when things happened. Zombies calmed down at night. They were almost human in that retrospect. They usually just roamed silently in their hordes. At day they were actively moving around. 

The real humans were also more likely to do things at the crack of dawn then they were in the dead of night. Unless they wanted to be blind to their surroundings when it came to eyesight. A lot of people had died early on from that mistake. It was easy to get jumped on by a walker if you couldn’t see where they were.

Abandoned places were his friends. Newer looking buildings, while more fortified, were more likely to have survivors and fresher zombies inside. The fresher the dead, the more dangerous they could be. Older zombies, which meant the majority since civilisation fell rather quickly, were fragile beings.

Their bones were brittle and their flesh was decomposing at fast rates. It was at the point he could tear off their skin and muscles with his bear hands and it would take very little effort. He had realised they’d decompose eventually. When their brain stems turned to mush in black putrefaction, they’d be rendered back to dead corpses.

Adrien didn’t like to think about what he’d do when that eventually happened. Would he rebuild? Try to find who was left? Cast the cure? He didn’t know. Since the akuma magic messed with Casper’s law of decomposition, he wouldn’t be able to tell for certain just when he’d be free of most the infected, but it would happen sooner or later.

Abandoned buildings were quiet. Quiet and a good place to collect himself. He could clear a building and destroy the contents in rage without consequence or second thought. He finally got why his father used to destroy his atelier sometimes whenever he was emotional. Breaking things felt good.

He’d stopped by an old therapist centre once. When he was inspecting the original owners work room, he’d almost laughed at how much it reminded him of his father’s office. It was dusty and dark, but his flashlight revealed the contents inside. Papers upon papers scattered on the desk from unfinished business and a singular propped up tablet was left as though he’d been on call when the building was infested. The butterfly collection the guy had was adding to Adrien’s amusement. 

He thought about better times. Wallpaper shadows of graylings and clothes with a black butterfly brand could flash through his head freely. Before he parted, he took the preserved grayling butterfly from the casing, tossing the resin up in the air with a small chuckle. He ended up taking that with him and hanging it up on the mirror with his lucky charm. What was an Agreste if they didn’t have at least one butterfly memorabilia along with them to honour the meaning of their name?

The most nerve wracking thing was not having a plan. Chat Noir always thought out his actions or had Ladybug there to do it for him should he be irrational or busy. He had nothing but the will to survive, pure spite, and the luck of being rich. He would have to thank the gods for the seemingly useless activities he’d been forced to partake in.

It was practically the only reason he was still alive. Being as proficient as he is in practically everything, via his parents insistence, he was ready for any scenario. Lose a gun? Fencing lessons were coming out. Lose a sword? Paranza Corta knife fighting worked like a treat. Lose all his weapons except his own body? Those martial art lessons would end up on his list of things he was thankful for.

It was startling when he realised he thought more about how to survive in the long run then he did about his hopes of seeing family and friends again. One day, that thought must of died off the same time whatever zombie kill he’d done that had submitted him to such ideology. He was getting used to the emotional toll everyday brought.

He found out he liked it in the woods when he was Misterbug. He was in control. He was safe in the tree line, far away from any creepers roaming underneath. No one could touch him. If he needed to escape somewhere for a few minutes just to scream his heart out, that was the place to do it.

He never set up snares since he never stayed in one place long enough for it to be worth it. If he wanted to eat something fresh that wasn’t the stuff in the back of the limbo, it was from hunting and hunting alone. No waiting game involved not tolerated. He didn’t think he had the patience for fishing or any act of that variety. The longer in one place, the more likely he was to die.

He didn’t like the forest at all as Adrien for that matter. He always scared out a few steps into the environment and ended up calling upon Plagg in the initial search for prey. When he wanted to kill what he’d tracked down, he transformed back into Misterbug to call for a lucky charm. That was more often then not a bow and arrow. There was that one time it had been a glock though. 

He’d gotten a laugh out of that. He could imagine an akuma battle if his lady had gotten one of those. They would be over relatively quickly though. Oh, Ladywifi’s teleporting again? There she is. Let’s see if she can go faster then these bullets. Guess not. He was already mentally cataloging all the gun puns he could think of.

The woods were dangerous without powers. They were just an expanse of unknown that so happened to be filled with chances of tripping, hidden walkers, ambushes in the making and danger. It spelled disaster to just be walking in one leisurely these days. How people could do that without fear, he didn’t know. There was too many variables to take into account for him to try one day.

Cooking what he’d gotten from the woods was... interesting at first. It wasn’t like he had ever had to cook before. The mansion had chefs for that, and it wasn’t like homeschooling offered food tech. It was trial and error. Tiki had suspected such an outcome apparently, since she’d encouraged him to charge her up and go out a few more times just to be sure.

Rabbit and deer was surprisingly alright. He’d shied away from such things in the past at fancy events, blanching whenever someone suggested such a thing. Yet he’s certainly had worse, and in an apocalypse, everything but death was good enough.

He always left his mark in places. That was a small quirk he’d picked up. If he settled down somewhere for the night, he’d carve his name into the nearest tree first with the date. It acted as some sort of bench mark to show the ground he’d covered and ensure he doesn’t double back on himself accidentally. The buildings he looted or went through usually had some sort of log, so it was amusing to leave his name in a guest book with a witty remark or two.

He was figuring this life out slowly but surely. A survival tactic he had to have. His system routine was working. He hadn’t died just yet, and he hadn’t gotten himself into much danger past sudden zombie attacks from silent stragglers and a few chases from the fast ones. So it had to be good enough.

Even while driving, rural Colorado refused to give him a break. He thought he at least deserved it by now. He’d been humming the song playing as he tapped away on the steering wheel when he heard it through the open window. Growls, the sound of dragging shoes and ungodly screeches in the close distance. The smell came soon after.

Walkers. A crowd of them up ahead. By crowd he meant a herd and by herd... he meant an entire high rise worth. Hundreds. Maybe even a thousand or so. He couldn’t tell from his current view point. They were slowly approaching a hundred or so meters away.

They looked slow now, but he wouldn’t be saying such a thing if he was on foot. They’d catch right up if he tried running. They’d effectively cut off his route and were heading north. It made sense. All creatures did in doomsday for some reason. No matter how many techniques and weapons he may have, there’s no way he can take that many on and walk out the other end of it victorious. He’d need a whole missile in his arsenal before he even began to contemplate doing so.

Cursing, he turned the car around as fast as he could. “Plagg, Tiki, can you pass me the map and marker please?” He called out as he pushed his foot down and made ground away from the collection. The kwami’s nodded seriously and flew off to the back to grab what he required.

The zombies outsourcing from cities to the country was a possible outcome he’d always thought about when watching zombie films. It was the only logical reason protagonists had to defend land so far away from populace. Any organism would move to better conditions if they were being starved. Zombies included. They would’ve run out of people eventually, starting to roam further and further from their original turn point in an attempt to find food.

Now he had to figure out what to do. He stopped the car and cast a look to the rear view mirror to make sure he’d put enough space between him and the zombies to idle for a few minutes. Uncapping the red marker with his teeth, he released a long suffering breath and marked an X on their current spot.

“So the heard is there. Unless agitated, they’ll go just under the average walking speed of a human at 5 kilometres an hour. So we convert that to the metric system and take away our human factor which leaves us at 2 miles per hour.” He said aloud, more for his own benefit then the kwamis.

“Colorado is the eighth largest state in the US. It measures 280 miles north to south. So it will take them 140 hours, or just shy of six days to cross fully into the next state. With more than 100,000 total square miles to explore, I suppose I should find a closed off field or side road. Highways will all probably be the same.” He murmured, crossing out certain routes and putting warning markers.

“If they’re all heading up North, I can assume this lot is from Sante Fe, New Mexico. There won’t be any more after this. None as big at least. So I have to go around them and south. It’ll be suicide to try and outrun them by going further up their path. Not only will I risk going into colder less forgive environments, but decay slows in freezing temperatures. It makes more sense to stick around the climate he was in and wait for the decay to take them naturally.” He scribbled out the entirety of the top half of America to make a point.

He had plenty of maps anyway. He’d picked up the entire shelf off that shabby tourist shop a while ago for a reason, and defacing them in the purpose of his travel was certainly what it was. “While I’m not a fan of leaving Colorado, it looks as though I’ll have to. At least until I know for sure that any major herds have moved further then the county I like the most survival wise.” The words are annoyed, and he couldn’t help but wish it was possible to strangle the universe.

“So we take the backroad that this high way diverges into, even going off-road if we do have to, and go around them on the highways. The US-Mexico border wall, while not overly sturdy, should have been good enough reenforced to stop most the herds from those areas. For now anyhow. We’re going to set up shop deep in New Mexico for a week or two. Right by the border if we can. Maybe a month at worse. That way it gives plenty of time for the nearby zombies to immigrate up north and we can’t be attacked from one side at least.” Tiki was smiling where she was sat with Plagg. It took Adrien a moment to realise it was because his methodical thinking reminded her of Ladybug.

“On the plus side, if they’re are any police or military left, it will be down there. A good portion were sent there to stop people jumping the border if they were infected and preventing panic immigration in the more less developed countries who wanted to make sure they were near decent hospitals for loved ones. I doubt all of them would’ve died. A handful would’ve hunkered down, or at the very least deserted. If I’m feeling lucky, I might even cross into the tail of Texas and follow the border eastbound. That way, if all fails, I can book it to Georgia and hope the CDC is still around.” He joked.

Plagg snorted in equal amusement. “Kid, if the people that control diseases fell with the rest of Atlanta, there’s really no hope for any of your species if the brightest minds died too.” The god remarked playfully. “Play nice, you stinky sock. Humans are special. They’re usually destroying themselves first to realise things like this could happen tomorrow.” Tiki pretended to scold, but the ending proved it was equally a burn as it was a repercussion.

“Mother Nature flipped off global warming now no one is around to operate factories.” Adrien’s grinned, calculating how long it will take the corpses to reach a point they’d freeze completely for good measure.

“The military have separate channels the public aren’t privy to. They’d be the most informed and connected out of anyone left on earth. Granted, that’s not many, but all militaries and leaders are connected. If I find one, I can find the rest. The rich and powerful, I can guarantee you, are the ones still alive. They have supplies. Weaponry terrorist groups could only dream of. Maybe there’s one or two loners like me left dotted around, but the overwhelming majority are probably leaders and scientists. No one else would have the resources to make it this long in a magical outbreak. I’ve probably only gotten as far as I have because of you two.” If Plagg and Tiki’s faces meant anything, they certainly agreed.

Spreading the map across the dashboard, he put the car into first gear and started going again. “So... I guess New Mexico here we come.” Adrien finalised once he found the turn off he was looking for to take the car on a rather extravagant u-turn route around the walkers.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, kid? Moving from Colorado to New Mexico after all this time here. It’s risky.” Plagg drew out. “Not really, but it’s the best one we’ve got. If I stay here, they’ll have to go through me. We can’t risk them realising I’m in the car instead of walking around it. If I move North, I’ll be sandwiched between them and the horde going the same direction from the other states. Eventually, the ones up there will freeze and idle at one point, and those behind will catch up. Putting me in a worse scenario then if I just cut my losses. They decay quicker too. So any left that didn’t join groups will be easier to kill. That is if they’re even alive at all.” He rationalised.

That seemed enough for Plagg, since Tiki was the next to question. “But how can you be sure that there will be military here on al places? There are hundred of countries. Why not there?” She questioned. Adrien smiled and merely gestures to the map. “It’s America, Tiki. I’m European. What’s rule number one about these lot?” He recited.

“Their leaders are arrogant.” She repeated.

“Trust me. If the world is ending and there is an Armageddon mission underway, they’ll do everything they can to make sure they’re apart of it. That includes moving everyone from their safe zones in Europe to America as the HQ. They’ve got everything tech and people wise to be the perfect meet point for world saving. If there is government still about, they’ll be here. I know it.” Or at least it had to be, because he didn’t know what he’d do if he was wrong.

Besides, impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing. If there was just a minuscule chance, he had to take it.

Adrien didn’t want to admit it was because of the promise to Abigail, but it was obvious anyhow...


	7. Breakdowns Of A Caved In World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien doesn’t listen to warnings, gets hurt, and talks to some survivors

He'd been talking to Plagg and Tiki when it happened. They'd summarised that if military would be anywhere, it would be El Paso international airport that was just through the tail of Texas. Then there was a jitter.

At first he thought he might've just stalled it from lack of paying attention until he realised it was no driving fault and the car was jumping to a stop with smoke coming from the engine. "No no no! Come on! You don't get to do this! Not now!" He shouted in annoyance, banging on the wheel as though that would do any good.

Adrien cursed in disbelief, pulling over and throwing open the car door. "What is it, kid?" Plagg asked on confusion, staring at the smoke. "I don't know! I don't know. It could be a whole host of things. Worn-out spark plugs, a clogged catalytic converter, overheated oil, no lubricant or the electrical cables coming loose! Bloody anything! A lot of things I don't have the resources to fix." He ranted, not even bothering to open up the hood.

Thus emerges his newest dilemma. Does he leave his car of supplies behind, packing what he can and taking the most important suitcases to start a hike to New Mexico or stay? Stay in his car. His home. His very wellbeing, and pray the problem fixes itself. He'd have constant suspense. A constant fear anyone could be near. The fear that a herd could roll by any minute and drown the car he was staying in. There was no telling what could happen. If he'd get bit. If he'd simply be eaten piece by piece before he even got chance to turn. If he'd take his own life. If he'd be fine. He didn't know. He was gambling here.

"The hell am I supposed to do? I have 500 or so miles left to cover. I'm not leaving all my supplies behind. They’re the only reason I’m as healthy as I am right now." He shouted in annoyance to the air. "Maybe... maybe you can save it all? In the pocket void of the Ladybug yo yo?" Tiki suggested.

"I'd have to transform whenever I wanted something even small. It's too dangerous." He denied, pacing furiously on the empty roadside as he tried to think of ways to bring the car along with him that didn't involve wasting valuable stamina pushing it. "Kid-"

"I could ditch it now and come back with another-"

"Adrien _listen_!"

"Then I can just tow it the rest of the way. By time I meet up with possible military-"

"KID _BEHIND_ YOU!"

"It won't matter what I'm driving. I could even transfer my stuff to the new car and ditch the mini altogether. Make that my new home, but I risk someone finding this and looting-"

"FOR GODS SAKE, **_ZOMBIE!_** "

Eyes widening in realisation, he spun around, just to be knocked back by the throwing force of another body against his, sending him tumbling into the car door. He let out a yell of pain at a snapping feeling in his finger, glancing up to see it trapped in the now slammed shut car door.

He yelled in pain as he reached out for his gun that had skidded off just slightly out of reach. Kicking out at the screeching form trying to bite at his ankle, he grappled for a rock and swung towards the zombie’s head. He couldn’t do much damage with it since it wasn’t heavy enough, but it worked to throw it off for a moment. He was about to shout for one of the kwami's to pass over his gun had it not been for the bang a few meters off that exited out the walkers head.

Gasping, he opened the car door despite the pain, picking up his gun now he was free and aiming at the new arrival. "Don't come any closer! You here me!?! One more step and I blow your head off faster then you can process the fact you should fire!" He demanded, injured hand clutched to his chest.

"Hey hey. I'm not looking to hurt you." The man assured, raising his hands and tossing his weapon on the floor. "I've heard that a lot before. I'm yet to trust it. Just be on your way. I'll reimburse you for the bullet you used to save me, and that'll be it. Okay?" He defended.

"You don't have to pay me back a thing. Do you need any help? You looked pretty pissed off before that Z pounced." The man tried, eyebrow raised. "The cars done one on me. That's all. I can handle it. Be on your way, monsieur. If you think you can rob me, you're sorely mistaken." He repeated.

"Not looking to take your loot. I've got plenty of my own back at the country home. My boy's a mechanic. He can take a look at it for you if you want." The guy called out. Adrien hesitated slightly, weapon lowering an inch, glancing at his car a few times. "My wife's a doctor. She can fix up that ring finger for you. It looks like a pretty easy to set break. I've done something similar before. Pre-Z of course." The man promised.

"No need. I'll just cut it off and stitch the end. It's more practical." Adrien deflected. The guy tilted his head in disbelief. "You really willing to cut off a finger then accept help?" He whistled. "Correction, I'm willing to cut off my finger then risk being double crossed. My parents taught me enough stranger danger lessons for me to know that people you run into aren't reliable because believe me, I needed the practice because of what their jobs used to be." He deadpanned.

"Where's your mother and father now? We can wait for them if that makes you more comfortable with my son fixing this thing." The man suggested. Adrien narrowed his eyes and rose the gun a little, clearly the man had noticed he'd made a mistake of some kind since he took a cautionary step back. "She's been missing since Pre-Z and my father turned. So no. I don't think we can wait for them. Unless you intend to meet them in the afterlife." Adrien snapped.

"Oh. My bad. Look. How about you stay, and I go get my boy and wife to tag along? We'll fix it up here.” That was... a decent compromise if he was absolutely hellbent on helping. "If you're tricking me I swear to god you will never see another sunrise again." He warned, pointing the gun a little harder the prove his point. "You can shoot us whenever you think you need to shoot. Promise. I'll be back in ten minutes." He called out as he ventured to his own vehicle.

"Name!" Adrien recalled

"Mark Bozeman!"

Then he's left alone again. Holstering his gun, he sat back in the car and locked the doors for good measure. The kwamis finally came out from where they hid upon noticing the man’s approach during the scuffle. Grimacing, he flexed his hand before regretting it immediately at the spark of pain igniting through his arm. "That does not look good, kid." Plagg drawled.

"I can see that. I doubt fingers decide to go 45 degrees these days on their own leisurely time." He winced, letting his head lean against the headrest. "A-At least it just looks snapped. You should've crushed it instead. That's good. You fell a way that it wouldn't be that bad. It's... fixable." Tiki tried lightening. Adrien nodded and tapped his foot impatiently.

He’d gotten used to being on the move constantly he forgot what idleness was like. He always had a plan. Now he physically couldn’t do anything. Not before he dealt with his hand and figured out why his transport had gone out from under him without warning.

He grabbed ahold of his gun again when a different vehicle pulls up eventually, this time what was obviously an old tow truck from a Pre-Z company. Jumping out the limo, he graced them by not immediately shoving guns in their faces since they didn’t have weapons on them currently as far as he can tell.

Even the Mark guy had obviously abandoned his pistol at home before returning with his wife and son. “Jesus dad, when you said there was a teenager on the side of the road, I didn’t think you meant Adrien Bloody Agreste.” The youngest realised in surprise.

“Adrien Agreste? Isn’t that like... the perfume from that one model?” The news woman holding a black blag questioned. Damn. Every time. “Well yeah! But like THE Gabriel Agreste’s son! The best designer like ever! Hey. I’m Brandon. The heck is a famous Parisian doing all the way on the other side of the world?” Brandon greeted excitedly. Oh. That was new. It was about time someone actually mentioned his father.

“I caught the last ferry someone was driving a few weeks into the akuma. Most of Europe is a zombie hotspot. It was suicide to stay longer then necessary. Ir was either America or Russia.” He explained hesitantly.

“Stop being nosey, Brandon. I get you like fashion, but the boy can have his secrets. He’s come a long way. If he wants to tell them, he will in his own time. I’m Alexis. Can I take a look at that finger?” She offered kindly with a bright smile. He had to force down images of Marinette that it brought. He also shoved the knowledge away that this connection convinced him he could at least trust her.

Nodding, he sat down on the car seat with his legs outside as she kneeled next to him, inspecting the injury as the two men disappeared behind the engine hood. He didn’t like the fact he couldn’t see them. Whether that was just out of hyper vigilance or honest to god probable concern he didn’t know.

They could be doing anything under his nose right now. Planning an attack, pulling out weapons, sabotaging him more. He didn’t know. “Oh yes this’ll be easy. Just gotta move it back and wrap it in some stints. Long as you don’t move it too much, it won’t cause you much trouble. You staying in South Colorado long?” She hummed, pulling things out the bag and injecting what he assumed to be anti inflammatory and pain medicine into his wrist.

“Well I was hauled up around Hinsdale County and planned to continue to be, but there was a big herd heading that way that I spotted while driving about. Probably all from Santa Fe and Albuquerque. I’ve got a new place in mind. A more important one.” He shrugged, looking away when he assumed she planned to pull at the broken finger to put it place in the correct place. 

“Any place in particular you’re planning?” If she is trying to double cross him, it certainly didn’t look like it. Her face was just that of a nurse trying to distract a patient. He’s not overly fond of the idea of telling just everyone he meets, but it’s the least he could do. She’s fixing him up, and if this is a set up, they wouldn’t of used valuable medicine on him.

“New Mexico and Texas seem nice. Since all the zombies are moving north in search of prey, I’m going to try and get as close to the border as I can. Start to work my way east since the west cost is out of the question. I won’t risk the amount of people round there.” Adrien explained vaguely as she listened in.

“Aren’t you gonna be hot over there? The east side gets pretty heated during the summer.” She clicked. Adrien chuckled and shook his head in negative. “No no. It’ll be more like I’m used to. Colorado is actually super cold during summer. France pretty much always hangs at 46°F in the winter and 77°F at the height of summer. So not even Florida could phase me I think. I’ve always been good with heat.” He assured.

“77 in summer? Damn I pity you guys. Must be roasting half the time.” Mark called out from the engine. “You think that’s bad? 2003 there was a heat wave. I was only a year old so I don’t remember it, but Southern France hit 114.” He smiled. “114?!? You sure you aren’t losing yourself in temperature translation there? That’s insane. No even Death Valley could go hit that on a really bad day.” Brandon laughed. “I’m sure that’s right. 45.9 degrees celsius. No word of a lie.” He denied.

“If you’re heading all the way to the border and just travelling as much as you can, how come you don’t take anyone with you?” Alexis quoted, tapping his ring finger to his pinky for support. Adrien bit down a flinch and looked away awkwardly. “I just don’t have anybody is all.” He murmured.

“No one? No distant family or friends?” Mark asked in confusion. That time he did flinch. “Come on, dad. Be sensitive. We’ve all lost people.” The mechanic son scolded at a whisper, but he could still hear it loud and clear despite whatever hearing damage all the firing of guns may have done to him.

“I uh... all gone I’m afraid, Back in Paris. No one lasted long. Given the population and the fact it was ground zero of the akuma’s pandemic... they were all clearly victims. My father and the one mother figure I had left probably died the first day since I didn’t get any worried calls or meet ups. They’d been at a fashion convention. I know my father didn’t suffer at least. He didn’t seem uh... eaten in any way. Just bitten on the hand. Not sure about Nathalie though. I couldn’t get a good enough look on her.” He began shakily.

“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.” Alexis assured, but Adrien shook his head with a small grin. “No, I have to get it all out eventually. What better time then now?” He licked his lips that had gone dry because at remembering it all. Paris hadn’t exactly been a pretty sight the last time he saw it. It was much harder to think about like that then when it was in its previous Pre-Z glory.

“My friends probably kicked off at the same time since they’d been hanging out in the city centre. They were... their torsos were ripped to shreds. They’d definitely been caught off guard. Didn’t have time to defend themselves. A girl I knew called Marinette lasted the longest. I spotted her running away a few times in the city. She may have been hiding in her bakery and only went out for supply runs. Eventually even she died too. Only found out myself when I saw her undead in a crowd.” He chuckled morbidly before scowling.

“It wasn’t the greatest day that one. I’d just let my own best friend die under my nose too since I didn’t keep an eye on her. It didn’t help that an hour or two later I found out I’d also lost another. The last person I knew who was my age. No one purposely got out the city at first. That’s the worst thing. We all... we all believed the heroes would fix it. That it would be over eventually. Even if it took a week or two. No point in avoiding akumas now we’ve gotten used to the idea of everything being fixed by Ladybug. The desensitisation was probably the downfall of the world. It let it spread further before the government could contain it. It took Chat Noir to force them to realise this wasn’t blowing over.” He reminisced.

* * *

_“I can’t... I can’t fix this. You need to run. You need to get out of Paris. Out of France. Hell, get out of the whole of Europe if you can. If you’re bit, please stay where you are. Don’t let it spread further. Lock yourself away. Tie yourself down. Anything. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do anymore. From observation, you turn within the day. Two if you’re absolutely lucky. It depends on the immune system. This isn’t behaving like magic. It’s reminiscent of an actual virus. I don’t know if you can beat it naturally yet. That’s something you’ll have to figure out. You can cut off any bitten appendages and live as long as you get there in time. I’ve seen it myself.” Chat Noir explained hurriedly, face punched in regret and worry._

* * *

“In Paris, I had people. I had my father. My friends. I’m now spending the rest of the outbreak alone, avoiding what trouble I come across and driving away from survivors that offer to merge groups. It’s all I can do.” He continued, blinking away the short memory of the lengthy broadcast.

“Meaning?”

“Even if they don’t betray me, if I go out there with someone, I have a feeling they’ll just end up dead. I can’t get attached and lose another person. Not anymore. Emotionally, it’s the safer option. The less people I meet, the less I can get hurt.” Adrien clarified darkly.

Watching him sadly, Alexis nodded. “Then what will happen if you... I don’t know, fall? Break something more important then your ring finger. What if you end up without anymore bullets? Lose your weapons? Get jumped by bandits? Surprise clubbed over the back of the head when walking? Do you just plan on dying? Throwing in the towel?” Brandon grunted, pulling on something he couldn’t see.

Adrien blinked in surprise and shrugged. “I always keep a spare bullet in my pocket for a reason.” He deadpanned. The meaning of that was clear enough. “Besides, if I’m jumped, I can fight hand to hand. I took enough combat lessons to satisfy the best of self defence teachers. If they have guns to my head, I’ll just talk my way out of it. Worse case I’m kidnapped. I can easy get out of that. I’m cautious.” He added.

“It’s not really that I’m worried about. As a mother, it’s worrying. Spending all this time, and planning on spending even more, by yourself in a world like this can’t be good for your psyche. Besides life, aren’t you worried you’ll lose yourself? Become no better then those insane human eaters?” She suggested.

Adrien leaned back slightly, heart beating loudly in his chest. “Fuck you for asking that.” He scowled. He’d never said that to anyone before, but it feels more than appropriate right now. “So you are worried about it then.” Mark concurred from the front of the car.

Adrien sighed lowly and looked down at the floor. “I’m not afraid of losing myself. It’s the opposite. I’m more afraid I already have.” He admitted quietly, teeth gritted together. “That’s a perfectly valid fear. We all have to reflect on ourself sometimes. Especially in times like these. It’s easier then ever to lose sight of our morals.” Brandon agreed.

“It’s not my morals I’m concerned about. It’s those in the _way_ of them...”


End file.
